


Corrupted

by fid_gin



Category: Fright Night (2011)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-11
Updated: 2014-09-11
Packaged: 2018-02-16 23:15:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 601
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2288150
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fid_gin/pseuds/fid_gin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Peter's never told someone he's loved them before and meant it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Corrupted

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the [Fright Night Kink Meme](http://frightnight2011.livejournal.com/718.html?thread=134350#t134350) to the prompt _Peter's never told someone he's loved them before and meant it (at least, he hasn't romantically)_
> 
> Originally posted 9/9/2011

He's never said I love you and meant it before. At least, not that he can remember – he's sure, he _hopes_ , that he must have told his parents as a child, sometime before that night of blood and terror when the coward he eventually became was born as he hid in a closet and covered his ears trying to drown out the screams.

He can _say_ it, of course. Many women and men as well have heard those words dropped as carelessly and easily as they themselves were soon afterward. He loved Ginger a lot, actually, but never said it; their verbal sparring and trading of insults was the affectionate exchange in their unconventional relationship, and he doesn't regret that. Shit, if there's one thing he's always needed, it's someone to call him on the douchebag he was and probably always will be. The fact that Charley does it so quietly, so _acutely_ , is just one more reason why he's fallen so helplessly for the dumb kid. That, and the whole saving-Peter's-life-multiple-times thing.

Continuing to hunt together, taking down the last of Jerry's tribe in the area – those unfortunate souls who didn't change back when he was staked – they make a strange pair: the corruptible and the corrupted, though he's not sure which is which. He's got his weapons, his booze, his foul mouth and his wandering hands, but Charley's got that open face, that child's mop of hair that hasn't quite caught up with the man the rest of his body has grown into and, worst of all, those eyes that see right into Peter and make him step up and do stupid, brave things he'd never do otherwise. That's the definition of a bad influence, isn't it? He certainly _feels_ influenced when it's late at night or early in the morning and he's in bed, alone, when his fingers steal down and curl around his cock and he comes after only a few short moments thinking about those eyes, those cheekbones and that _mouth_. That mouth that he's only tasted once because the little prick apparently thinks kissing is just a step too far; anything else that's transpired between them since that relieved smooch in the vampire's basement has taken place exclusively below the belt. Drunken evenings when Charley stays over, wakes the next morning and announces loudly that he can't remember _what_ happened last night.

And those nights are good. Better than good, fuckin' _great_. He shouldn't want more, but he does. He wants the press of those lips against his. He wants to say it and mean it: because Charley's the only real friend he has, because the nosy little bastard saved him from himself, because he'd like to fuck him senseless and _not_ have him magically disappear afterwards and a host of other embarrassing reasons that boil down to just because. He's _Peter Vincent_ – the fact that he gives a fuck that this scrawny geek from the suburbs will let him blow him when they're both drunk enough but won't kiss him is more difficult and frightening to face than any bloodsucker.

So when they're standing together after another kill, the glowing embers of dead vampire still falling around them like fiery snow and Peter grins over at him and says it, it's a very big deal for him. “I love you, you know?” And an even bigger deal that Charley smiles back at him in that almost shy way of his, says “I know, man,” and leans over to brush his lips against Peter's for one split second.

Being corrupted isn't so bad, Peter decides.


End file.
